Captain Coco and The Bubble Incident Chapter 1: First Engagement Part 2

Posted on September 18, 2012 by chaelwest

All is quiet except for the sound of 300 energetic human mandibles chewing upon bowls of Pebbly Poohs and Honey Bears. The First Mate, Mr. Blade, true to his word, has managed to pour three hundred bowls of children’s cereal, assisted by Counselor Penna, within five minutes. Smelling deliciously throughout the entire vessel are the roasting buffalo wings ordered by Captain CoCo, who is at present wolfing down his bowl of Pebbly Poohs and Honey Bears. The Captain’s motto is “eat to have endurance”. He has proven that his motto is well-grounded. Captain CoCo eats ten meals a day (small ones, of course) accompanied by copious amounts of coconut milk to clear his intestines. No duplicators for himself or his crew. Real food only…quality, thank you very much. He is never in the infirmary, but it is a well-known fact that he runs the kitchen crew ragged.

The captain has a reason for demanding such culinary discipline. The ISP Grande Pollo is manned by a large illustrious crew of talented individuals. They need lots of energy. Perhaps because they have a reason. Captain CoCo runs every one of them ragged as well. Also, one of the many pre-requisites for serving on a ISP Force starship is the ability to sing, dance, and act. There has never been a justifiable reason for this requirement–a bit like cutting off the end of the ham to fit the pan. A special Thespiadeck is provided on each ship for the sole purpose of encouraging each of the crew members to practice their individual talents with impunity. No supervision and observation here. It is the belief of the ISP Force governing body that the way to ensure the happiness and obedience of the crew is to provide them with unsupervised personal time. Now, admittedly, some of the crew chooses not so healthy pursuits, but most use the Thespiadeck on a daily basis.

A sudden alarm sounds throughout the ship…Cluck, Cluck, Cluck, Cluck, Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!!!… It grows louder and louder until Captain Coco decides to answer the hail. He has left one lone individual to man the bridge, Protection Officer Bun-Bo, a tall, handsome officer with the reputation of being the most marvelous dancer on board. Ahem… except for Captain Coco, of course.

Take Note: Captain Coco doesn’t believe in using the intercom system on the ISP Grande Pollo. It goes against his belief that dignified yelling helps to develop the vocal chords. Therefore he screams at the top of his lungs, “What is it, Protection Officer Bun-Bo?” No answer. Protection Officer Bun-Bo is four bulk-heads away and it has been rumored that his refusal to use his doctor prescribed hearing aid is for the sole purpose of ignoring Captain CoCo.

This time, however, Protection Officer Bun-Bo is in the middle of staring at the Strawberry Bubble spaceship as it is approaching the ISP Grande Pollo at breakbow speed.

“Captain Coco!!! Captain Coco,” he screams. “We are under attack!!!”

“By what?” screams Captain Coco as he enters the bridge. There is no need for an answer, for just as Captain Coco leaps gracefully into his chair there is a sudden splashing sound, the ship lurches aft, and a monstrous amount of strawberry essence bubble bath is pouring down the hull of the ISP Grande Pollo. It appears as a red waterfall in the viewer screen and there is a pervasive smell of strawberries wafting through the ship’s ductwork and entering every breathable part of the ship.

“Surrender or drown!” demands a deep, basso voice emanating from the (at this moment) invisible Strawberry Bubble ship. “We have located your portholes and we are prepared to forcibly flood your ship with our finest bubble bath. Seeing as how we have an endless supply, you will have to surrender before we run out of bubbles.”

Captain CoCo is torn between wanting to laugh uproariously and cry like a baby in his diaper at nap-time. He has faced down many a ship’s captain in his time using conventional weapons, but this…he has never had cascading strawberry bubbles threatening to clog his portholes and dissolve his hull. His advanced science training leaps to his aid…

“Spray down the hull with the water ejectors right now!” he yells to the Chief Engineer who has just entered the bridge. “It should wash the bubble bath out into space!”

“We already tried that, Captain.” Chief Engineer Francois strolls nonchalantly to stand beside the captain. “The bubble bath is so gooey that it has clogged the ejectors. We have only forty-five minutes before this ship will have to be abandoned.”

“Forty-five minutes!!??” Captain Coco pivots in his command chair to address the Hailing Officer. “Lt. Bomma Whama, open a hailing channel. I must speak to that bubble captain.”

“Right away, Captain Sir, but it may be difficult. The ship’s antenna that you insisted on installing instead of the ISP Force communications system is rather gooey right now, but I will try to raise a hail.”

“Off with your head!” screams Captain CoCo, “I want to talk to that bubble head right NOW!!!”

“No need to get excited, Captain.” A strong, mellow voice rings out from the bridge entrance. “I am carrying a chickenizer.” Striding in looking like a fashion-plate and wearing cool shades, the ship’s Doctor Shades holds in his hand a gigantic wand-like object that smells suspiciously of chicken essence. “You know what happens when you get over-excited, Captain. Don’t force me to use this.”

Spinning swiftly around, Captain Coco addresses the First Mate. “You know how to deal with him, Mr. Blade. Get him off my bridge. Now!!”

Mr. Blade approaches Doc Shades, wrapping his arm around him and leading him away. Distantly… “How did you get hold of my best pair of shades? I hid those from you months ago…”

“Captain, I have an open channel.” Lt. Bomma Whama hands a telephone to Captain CoCo. “I don’t know how well this will work seeing as how you insisted on installing telephones instead of wireless communication devices. We’ll just have to pray and see what happens.”

Captain Coco plants his hands on both hips. “That’s insubordination, Lt. Bomma Whama. Remind me to court-martial you once all of this settles.”

“Yes Sir, Captain Sir!” Lt. Bomma Whama forgets to mention that this is the third time in two days that Captain CoCo has forgotten to court-martial her…

“Open the hail. Is this 12-8845-27736-568900, extension 36b?

Unbelievably there is an answer from the Strawberry Bubble captain. “I am Captain Wash-a-lot of the Bubbleship Berry Soapy. Even though you have centuries-old, outdated equipment space intruder, I can hear you. Barely. Snort!”

“I, Captain Coco of the ISP Grande Pollo refuse to surrender to a bubble–bearing, bubble-headed, strawberry toting, snorting foe. Surrender at once or FACE MY WRATH!!!”

…More snorting…

Captain Coco slams down the phone.”Protection Officer Bun-Bo, accompany me to the engineering section. There must be a way to defeat these strawberry bumpkins.”

“Whatever, Sir.” (Telephone rings in the background.)

Meanwhile, Captain Wash-a-lot sighs and drums his fingers on the arm of his squishie chair, then frowns like a five year old. Standing up, as Captain CoCo has refused to answer, he adjusts his towel about his waist and snatches up his rubber ducky in disgust. He sighs again as his turban-towel slips down over one eye. Raising his ducky aloft in defiance of the ISP Grande Pollo, he blurts…

“I shall be in my bath! Let me know when he deigns to speak with the captain of the powerful Bubbleship Berry Soapy! Lye and green apples reek!!!”

“Right Sir! Lye and green apples reek!!!” , the crew replies in a cascading, thunderous roar. Hail to the Chief of Rubber Duckies!!”.

To be continued…Muahahahaha!!!

Note: No resemblance to any living persons intended. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You know it is. Sorry.

Credit: JYJ Fantalk Team

Picture Credits:
blog.mycrazystuff.com
apenyo.wordpress.com

Please remove with credits intact. Better still, maybe we shouldn’t take credit. Would you? Muahahahaha!!!

Captain CoCo and The Bubble Incident Chapter One: First Engagement

Posted on September 13, 2012 by chaelwest

Captain CoCo stares at the ship’s holographic navigation unit while getting dizzy from trying to isolate Planet Ceremus23A from the millions of stars on the hologrid of the ISP Grande Pollo {Big Chicken}. The captain rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the building pressure. Just out of dock, and hailed as the greatest, most advanced starship in the fleet of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force, the Grande Pollo is on her maiden voyage to Ceremus23A, a hotbed of revolutionary passions.

According to reliable sources, Ceremus23A is in the midst of a soapy civil uprising caused by three opposing factions on the planet. The Strawberry Bubble and the Green Apple Factions have been competing and dousing each other with their squirt guns for several generations. Rumor has it that there are millions of Anti-Bubble rebels hiding in the hills and that an urgent call has been sent to the headquarters of the Interstellar Peacekeeping Force [To be known as the ISP Force from this moment on].

Unbeknownst to Captain CoCo, as his ship is speeding toward the planet another starship of equal power and splendor is racing to intercept them. Armed and dangerous, and the pride of Ceremus23A’s Strawberry Bubble Faction, the undetected ship contains eighty-eight thousand pounds of gaseous methane emissions as a propellant agent. In addition, it is carrying a cargo of seventy-seven million bio-gallons of strawberry bubble bath. This is not your ordinary, chemically induced strawberry bubble bath of the earth-like variety. A special formula of pure, organic strawberry essense and super concentrated soapy agents, it is the cream of the crop of Ceremus23A’s intergalatically acclaimed soap industry. One drop is said to be powerful enough to scent, and clean, ten tubs of muddy children, but the formula is mild enough to use for the newest of babes. However, the most frequent use of this pungently wondrous formula is to scent the bathtubs of intergalatic rockstars.

The jury is out as to which stars like which formula best…strawberry or green apple. Thus the war…

These decadent, extremely passionate humanoids pride themselves on their secret formulas which are passed down from generation to generation and guarded with fervent patriotism. Over time, the planet has exploded with malcontents who cannot decide which formula is better than the other. Of course, the Strawberry Bubble Faction and the Green Apple Faction believe that their soap is best. The Anti-Bubble rebel forces are composed of those Ceremus23Aer‘s who detest both strawberry and green apple essence. Instead, they prefer good old lye soap and water.

Painfully astringent in their view of life, these dedicated individuals do not embrace decadence of any kind (or rockstars either). After their unprecedented defeat of the Chocolate Eaters at Lake Wannabathy on Galaxy-date 3379, the rebel force has been feared and considered enemies of all pleasurably scented plants.

Oblivious to the danger of mediating between the three factions, Captain CoCo is fully relaxed {except for finding this illusive planet], thinking that this is an easy assignment. After all, how hard can it be to convince a world that loves bubble baths to chill?

“Captain,” the ship’s counselor croons mildly, looking about the room for the culprit… “I detect tension on the bridge. I suggest we do something about it at once. A song perhaps? I advised you that allowing the crew to wear their jammies today would halt the unease. But no one listens. Sigh… Smiles, everyone!”

Captain CoCo tilts his head 25 degrees to the right. “Perhaps a short rendition of Buffoons. In the key of G, Navigator Allegra, if you please.”

“Captain, I suggest it would sound better in the key of A.”

“Very well.” Sighs. “Lead us in song, Navigator. One, two, three…hit it!”

(Entire ship’s crew begins to frolic and sing lustily)

After fifteen minutes of a cacophonic nightmare of sound, the captain’s voice is heard above the din screaming. “My head! The horror! Someone is flat!”

A disembodied voice arises from the noise. “It is you, Captain!”

“Who dares suggest that Captain CoCo is flat?” Captain CoCo whines, reaching for a chicken wing to alleviate the stress. “Where is the buffalo sauce? It was here just a minute ago.”

The bridge goes suddenly quiet. All eyes are fixed upon the chicken wing.

“Captain,” declares the First Mate, “it appears to me that there would be less tension if we all ate breakfast. Wouldn’t you agree, Counselor? I’ll volunteer to cook.”

Staring his First Mate down, Captain CoCo sneers as the First Mate crosses his legs and flips his long bangs nonchalantly. Grinning fiercely, he challenges the captain with sparkling eyes. “Should it be kimchi and rice or cereal? Your choice.”

The counselor shakes her head. “Cereal would be faster. Captain?”

Captain CoCo chews reflectively. “Get me more buffalo wings and you, Mr. Blade, won’t be court marshalled.”

“Thank you, Captain,” First Mate Blade responds, uncrossing his long legs. “I will go to prepare first. Five minutes. Pebbly Poohs or Honey Bears?”

“Both. I think…” Captain CoCo says as he sucks on his chicken bone. “Two dozen wings for me, Mr. Blade. Post haste! Yesterday!”

Mr. Blade turns his handsome profile toward the captain in an attitude that conveys his displeasure at having to obey this despot of a leader. He rolls his eyes and pouts petulantly as he exits the bridge with a parting jab.
“Yours will take an hour, sir. Counselor, join me?”

“It is better than staying here. My head aches from all this testosteronic posturing. At least in the kitchen, there will only be one of you.”

…Meanwhile, moving as fast as methane gas can propel a warp engine, the Strawberry Bubble Faction’s ship is approaching the IPF Grande Pollo at alarming speed…